


Breathe

by mainstreamelectricalparade



Series: Hardest Lessons (Softest Results) [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Asthma, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Kid Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, like mild whump but still whump, no knowledge of emergency room proceedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:58:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainstreamelectricalparade/pseuds/mainstreamelectricalparade
Summary: 4-year-old Peter has his first asthma attack, and, true to this fandom's usual style, it's a bit of an ordeal.





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my hand at some light whump mixed in with my usual brand of fluff. Let me know what you think!

It was another late lab night for Tony, as he was trying to finish something for the military before his deadline at noon the next day.

Coming up on 4 in the morning, JARVIS spoke up.

“Sir, it might be in your best interest to-” he cut himself off, causing Tony to look up in confusion.

He wasn't confused for long.

“Peter is having trouble breathing and appears to be in significant distress.” JARVIS' tone was more urgent than usual.

Tony dropped everything he was holding and bolted for the stairs. He made it to Peter's room in record time, bursting through the cracked-open door and coming to an off-balance halt next to Peter's bed.

Peter was gasping for breath and practically sobbing. What little air he managed to take in was wheezy, and got coughed back out faster than he could get more.

Tony dropped to his knees and ran a hand through Peter's sweaty, tangled curls. “Peter, sweetheart, hey,” he said, his voice as soothing as he could make it. “Come here, baby, try to sit up.” He reached under Peter and hauled him into a sitting position, moving to sit behind him to prop him up. He swiped a thumb gently under Peter's eyes to wipe away the tears, though they were falling faster than he could catch them.

Peter whined, the sound wheezy, and turned his face into Tony's chest, reaching for him with both arms. “Daddy,” he cried.

Tony could barely tell what he was saying through the wheezing, labored breathing, but he got the idea and pulled Peter into his arms swiftly, cradling him close with one arm and running his other hand through Peter's hair.

“Peter, baby, you're gonna be ok,” Tony promised as Peter pressed his face into his neck, still trying to suck in a breath. “Daddy's gonna get you some help.” He slid an arm under Peter's legs, keeping the one around his back firmly in place, and stood up. “JARVIS, call the nearest emergency room and let them know we're on our way.”

“Right away, sir.”

Tony tucked Peter's baby blanket around his little body and then hurried down to the garage. He buckled Peter into his car seat in the back, kissing the top of his head and whispering another promise of “You're gonna be ok” into his hair before getting in behind the wheel and driving away from the house in the direction of the ER.

\---

The ER doctors let Tony and Peter through right away. Tony felt a little bad for all the people who had probably been waiting a lot longer, but the fact that Peter was having as much trouble breathing as he was demanded attention, plus. Tony was Tony Stark, and right now Tony Stark was worried out of his mind.

They let Tony hold Peter through most of their administrations, purely because when they tried to take him and put him on the examination table he panicked, trying to get back to Tony, and his breathing got even worse, so they gave him back and had Tony sit on the table instead, with Peter in his arms.

The doctor who helped Peter quickly decided that he definitely had asthma, and gave him a nebulizer treatment and then an oxygen mask. Peter squirmed throughout the entire treatment, and whimpered when they fit the mask over his nose and mouth, but Tony just rocked him gently and kissed his hair when the doctor moved her hands away.

“We'll keep that on him for a while,” she said. “I'll come back and check on him a little later, but with any luck we'll just write up a couple prescriptions and send you back home. I'll get in touch with his primary pediatrician. You can stay back here with him.”

“Thank you,” Tony said. The doctor nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Tony looked at the four year old in his arms, leaning down to kiss his hair again.

Peter looked back at Tony with wide, teary, scared eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Tony shushed him gently.

“Can't talk with the mask on, baby,” he murmured. “I know you're scared. That was a little bit scary. You're ok, I promise.”

Even though Tony was holding him, Peter reached for him pitifully. Tony's heart clenched and he wrapped his arms tighter around Peter's little body, shifting so that Peter could hug him back without disrupting the mask tube.

The medical setting and the little body tucked close to his chest brought a memory back to the front of Tony's mind, and he chuckled softy.

“Hey, Petey, do you know what this reminds me of?” he whispered, leaning backwards on the table until his back touched the wall.

Peter turned his big brown eyes on Tony. He didn't make a noise, but he looked curious.

Tony smiled and bumped his nose against Peter's forehead, then kissed the same spot. “The day you were born.”

Peter's eyes widened further.

Tony patted Peter's leg. “Yeah, it does,” he said, interpreting the action as a nonverbal “really?” “You were teeny tiny, and you didn't have a big oxygen mask like this-” he gently tapped the plastic over Peter's nose “-but you had a tube in your nose that you needed to help you breathe for a whole week.”

Peter looked very interested; Tony had never told him about his week-long stay in the NICU before. And he wasn't crying anymore, so Tony counted it as a win. He kept talking.

“You had to stay in the hospital so the doctors could help you, because you were born a little bit before you were supposed to. You were in a special ward with a bunch of other babies like you, and I visited you every day until they let me take you home. You cried a lot, because all babies cry, but you know what, Petey-Pie?” Tony whispered, like he was telling a secret. Peter blinked at him from behind the mask. “I held you _just like this_ , and then you didn't cry so much.”

Peter blinked a couple more times, then snuggled closer to Tony, closing his eyes. Tony's chest felt warm.

“Yeah, you did that in the hospital, too,” he murmured, nuzzling Peter's hair. “I remember that the best.”

\---

Peter was visibly relieved when the doctor came back and took the oxygen mask off him. It left little pink indents on the bridge of his nose and the sides of his chin, but he didn't seem to notice them. Tony did, and rubbed a gentle thumb over the one on his nose, causing his nose to scrunch up like a bunny, and Peter giggled, which was music to Tony's ears after more than two hours of crying, pained whining, and wheezing.

The doctor filled out a couple of prescriptions for Peter, one for an inhaler, one for allergy medicine, and then, finally, Tony was able to put Peter back in the car and drive him home, at 7:30 in the morning.

Peter fell asleep in the car, and Tony thought about waking him, because it was a school day, but when he opened the back door and looked at Peter's peaceful face, and saw his little chest rising and falling slowly and evenly, no wheezing, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He lifted his pajama-clad baby out of his car seat and closed the door with his foot, careful not to wake Peter. It would be a “sick day” today.

Tony put Peter back to bed for a couple hours and went to the home office (not the workshop) to call Peter's school, then he decided to do some email work on his computer until his kid woke up. Then he would make breakfast, and let Peter stay in his PJs as long as he wanted, and they would have a movie day.

Screw his work deadline. He had a kid to coddle.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr and Instagram! @riseuplikeglitterandgold


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